Though her chemise and his clothing remained between them, she could feel his shaft pressing into her and was again shocked at her body’s response. A wonderful expectation, almost a pressure, throbbed in her sex. She moved her hips again as she’d done when he’d removed her petticoat. A delightful friction sparked where their bodies met. Prudence wanted more.
Bennet groaned again just before he kissed her—differently this time. Instead of cajoling with gentle, eager strokes, he claimed her mouth, his kiss commanding her response. She was most happy to give it. Indeed, she reveled in the wild abandon of this kiss, of the way his fingers dug into her backside, of the press of his sex against hers.
He tugged the laces of her corset free, loosening the front. As with the petticoat, he took it from her body, but with more urgent, rougher strokes.
Still kissing her, he cupped her breasts, pushing them up slightly before he flicked his thumbs across her nipples through the thin lawn of her chemise. The craving she’d felt in that part of her sharpened, making her breasts feel heavy and desperate, which made no sense if she thought about it. So she didn’t. She arched into him, eager for his touch, for some kind of relief from this wicked torture.
As if he sensed what she wanted as well as he knew her thoughts, Bennet tugged her chemise over her head and tossed it away, exposing her completely to him. The chill in the spring night air pebbled her skin, making her even more eager to have him close.
“You are incomparably lovely.” He lifted her onto the bed and guided her to lie back on the coverlet, her head on the pillow. He stood beside her and simply stared at her body.
What should have embarrassed her only heightened her desire. She wanted to scream for him to touch her. And why shouldn’t she?
“Ben, aren’t you going to touch me again?”
“In so many ways.” He cupped her jaw and kissed her, his lips and tongue stroking hers until she was breathless once more. He moved down her neck, his hand ahead of his mouth. His fingertips closed around her left nipple.
She moaned, her back rising off the bed. She closed her eyes and basked in his attention. There was wetness. Her eyes flew open to see his mouth on her where his fingers had been. He licked across her skin before closing his lips over her and sucking—softly at first, then with more urgency. He caressed one breast while using his mouth on the other, driving her mad with want.
Prudence could not have imagined the pleasure his lips and fingers could bring. She twisted and clutched at him, desperate for more. Each time he flicked her nipples with his tongue or squeezed with his thumb and finger, a flash of ecstasy shot straight to her sex. She wanted him against her there, more of that friction.
Suddenly, his hand was there, between her legs, his fingers stroking her most intimate flesh. His mouth pulled on her breast, sending a torrent of desire to her sex just as he pressed against a most sensitive spot near the apex.
“What is that?” she demanded, her voice climbing along with whatever was building inside her.
“This is your clitoris, my love. Do you like when I touch it?”
“Yes. Very much. Don’t stop. Please.” She clutched at his head as he blew across her breasts.
“Spread your legs for me,” he urged, increasing the pressure he used on her, provoking her to move her hips against his hand. “I know you want to come. Soon.”
“What does that mean?”
He drew his teeth across her nipple, drawing a cry from her—not because it hurt but because she wasn’t sure how much more she could stand. Her body had begun to quiver.
“What do you feel?” he asked, his fingers sliding through her folds.
Eyes closed, Prudence tried to describe the sensations careening through her. “It’s wonderful and frustrating at the same time. I want…something. I don’t know. Just don’t stop. I feel as though you’re pushing me close to whatever it is.”
“I hope so.” He suckled her breast before pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging hard enough that she gasped as delicious longing arced through her.
“Don’t stop. Please.” She just kept repeating those words over and over, mindless to anything except the sensations he was arousing within her.
His finger stroked inside her, giving her a sense of what was to come, of what she didn’t know she wanted. Of course—him inside her. Then she would be complete. Then she would…come.
“Pru, I’m going to put my mouth on your sex. I’m afraid I can’t resist.”
She opened her eyes and lifted her head from the pillow to see his head between her legs. “Ben, you can’t.” Oh, but she was so glad he did. He sucked that spot—her clitoris—and stroked her sex, his finger sliding in and out.
He was suddenly between her legs on the bed, spreading her thighs and using his mouth in the most sinful way. The tremors in her body multiplied, and she clutched at his head as he drove her inexorably toward that thing she sought. Her body seemed to convulse, her muscles tightening as a rapture swept over her. She cried out as everything seemed to explode around her. There was brightness and electricity followed by a swallowing darkness awash with ecstasy.
She’d no idea how much time passed before she came back to herself. Vaguely, she realized Bennet was no longer on the bed. She opened her eyes to see him tossing his clothes off.
“Under the covers,” he instructed, tugging at the bedclothes beneath her.
Prudence managed to coax her jellylike limbs to move. He slid into the bed and pulled her into his arms.
“That was hardly fair,” she said, pouting. “I barely got to see you naked. You looked your fill of me.”
“I beg your pardon.” He spoke solemnly, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. Peeling the covers back, he lay back on the mattress. “Better?”
“Mmm,” was all she would commit to as she feasted on the full expanse of his chest. It was just as magnificent as the bit she’d seen several nights ago. She sat up to get a better view, then frowned at the sight of a few pale bruises on his torso. Gently, she brushed her fingertips over one on his left side. “What’s this?”
“From the fight last week.”
Of course. “Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore.”
“But it did.”
He shrugged against the mattress. “I suppose. I admit I don’t sustain a great deal of injury fighting.”
She arched a brow at him. “Because you’re that good?”
He smirked. “Yes, actually. But not last week.” His features sobered. “That was a bad fight. I was angry.” He shook his head and sat up, caressing her face and threading his fingers into her hair. “I don’t want to talk about that just now. If you don’t mind.”
She didn’t mind at all, not when her body was still recovering from what he’d done. “What just happened? Is that…normal?”
He grinned. “Yes. It’s called an orgasm.”
“Did I come?”
“If you had an orgasm, you came. You had a release. Those are just some examples of what to call it. You can call it whatever you like.”
“Absolute bliss. But shouldn’t you have that too?”
“I would like to.”
“Does that mean I should put my mouth on you?” She glanced down, where the bedclothes still covered him below the waist. However, she could see the clear evidence of his desire—his shaft stood stiff and tall, making a tent of the coverlet.